Fired Without a Face

When Everything Goes Silent

Before I could name the loss, I had to face the silence it left behind.

On January 15, 2025, a last-minute Teams meeting landed on my calendar…

No subject line. No warning. Just dread.

At 2:30 p.m., I logged in.

The camera was on.

Two people were on the other end.

There was no hello. No warmth. Just a script.

A policy. A final written warning I had already disproven. A goodbye.

They spoke like it was routine, but for me, it was a rupture.

They gave me the rest of the day to process it.

Then they logged off.

Have you ever known something life-changing was about to happen—before a single word was spoken?

The Discarded Laptop

"They seemed more concerned about the equipment..."

The laptop sat in my garage for over a month. It wasn’t the task—it was the weight of what it represented.

They were more focused on the return label than the fact that a chapter of my life had just closed.

If it weren’t for a close friend who offered to deliver it for me, it might still be sitting there—gathering dust and silence.

What object in your life still holds the weight of what you weren’t allowed to say?

The E-Mail That Reopened the Wound

Weeks later, long after the silence had begun, I received an email.

No note, no message—just an attachment. The subject line: ‘Termination of Employment 1.15.25.pdf.’

It arrived through Adobe Acrobat. Sent by someone I once trusted. Let’s call her Velma.

I stared at it for a long time.

The timestamp made no sense. The silence felt deliberate. And the pain?

It returned all over again.

A digital envelope icon or screenshot of a redacted email with "Termination of Employment" as subject

Has a delayed message ever reopened something you were working hard to heal?

The Boundary Email

So I responded—with a boundary.

“Receiving this message now has done nothing but relive a moment I’ve worked hard to process. I ask that you not contact me again about this matter.”

It wasn’t long or angry, but it was mine.

And what I got back wasn’t closure—it was a brush-off, an excuse, a deflection.

But here's the truth: that was still a turning point.

Because for the first time since being fired, I didn’t freeze. I didn’t overexplain. I didn’t make myself small.

I named what hurt and chose not to carry it.

What I gained in that moment was clarity.

Some things aren’t glitches. They’re patterns.

And I no longer explain myself to people who have already erased me.

When was the last time you chose clarity over closure?

📥 From Shock to Stillness

Download the free worksheet designed to help you begin healing after being let go.

Click here to download the free worksheet.

If You’ve Been There Too

If you’ve been fired without warning, support, or explanation—please hear me:

You are not broken.

You are not behind.

You are not weak for being hurt.

You were betrayed—not failed.

You were silenced—and now, you get to speak.

This blog is not just for closure. It’s a mirror. If you’ve been fired without a face, this space was created so your story no longer has to end in silence.

“Some things aren’t glitches. They’re patterns.”

What truth do you wish someone had told you when your world went quiet?

Remember, your story doesn’t end here. Together, we can find new beginnings.

This space was created for voices like yours.

If you’ve ever been dismissed, silenced, or made to feel invisible—your story matters here.

💬 Leave a comment below if this spoke to something you've carried quietly.

📩 Or reach out directly if you need a softer place to land.

No more shrinking. No more erasing.

You deserve to be witnessed.